


Confession

by fucker



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Leap of Faith - Menken/Slater/Cercone
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 12:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17745806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fucker/pseuds/fucker
Summary: Sonny has something he needs to get off his chest.





	Confession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adrianna_m_scovill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/gifts).



> Quick palate cleanser after so much Barson recently.
> 
> Thank you [ItalianDoll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItalianDoll) for the beta!

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Jonas pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed the impulse to check his phone for the twentieth time in as many minutes.

“It's been several years since my last confession.”

_This was nothing more than a publicity stunt. Having quickly cemented himself in the townspeople’s minds as a maker of miracles, why not offer them the option to be cleansed of sin by him? The pair of posters hastily drawn up by Sam and pinned to the church doors urged folks to ‘Come Confess Your Sins and Be Absolved by the Reverend Jonas Nightingale Himself!’, and come they had._

“I've been having...”

The man on the other side of the partition stopped and cleared his throat, and Jonas, eager to get back to his room and nurse his hangover, hopefully with an angel or two, gently urged him along. “What have you been having, my son?”

_This stunt— Sam's idea, of course— had proved to be more popular than he'd expected when he agreed to it, especially with the women. Doubly so with the women who were tired and bored of their husbands. Most were guilty of nothing more than sparing other men a second glance, and those had been asked to recite a Hail Mary and then sent on their way with his blessing. There were a few adulterers in the mix, whom he'd resisted the urge to ask for details, some gamblers, and one tearful young boy who'd accidentally stepped on a peeper. Overall a pretty upstanding town, it seemed._

A small clink as the stranger on the other side shifted; change in his pocket as he nervously shuffled his feet. “I've been having impure thoughts, Father.”

“Mmm?” Normally that would've perked Jonas right up, but this morning's coffee was wearing off, and the shot he'd had before getting off the bus had kicked in about five minutes ago. _Two shots, really. And a half_. He stifled a yawn. “Even the best of us fall prey to lust every now and again, my child.”

“And... well, homosexual urges.”

“I can't, in good faith, sit here and tell you that it's a sin to love who you love, son.” He was laying it on thick. _A hole is a hole, as his uncle used to say_. “Three Hail Marys as penance for your lustful thoughts, and—”

“Would that be doubled if the subject of your desires is a man of God?”

Jonas had never sobered up faster in his life, and he nearly cracked his skull against the wood paneling behind him as he sat bolt upright in his seat. He squinted through the tiny latticed window into the other compartment, but was unable to make out anything beyond the vague shape of two thighs and a pair of clasped hands. _No ring_. “Not the man of God that you're meant to be repenting to?”

“Not— not if he isn't interested.”

“Oh, he’s interested, my son.” Jonas was very, _very_  interested, in fact; his heart rate already spiking as blood began to rush south. “He just needs you to convince him.” _He was far beyond convinced; any man willing to spill his guts like this at ten o'clock in the morning— in a confessional, no less— was someone he’d do just about anything to have, but a little white lie for the sake of his ego was harmless._

“I've been to your show twice already, Father.” Unsure of exactly what the reverend wanted from him, Sonny paused and licked his lips before continuing. “The first night... I, um, couldn't help but notice how everything shows real nice through those pants when you spin across the stage like that.”

“And the second night?” _Were his pants really_ that _revealing? They were certainly feeling it right about now, but could people really see that much even when he wasn't so... interested?_

“The second night it was all I could look at. Watching that big dick against your thigh had my mouth watering, Father.”

 _Flattery was going to get this young man everywhere_. “Is that where you'd like it, my son?” Jonas dropped his voice to a lower register and leaned in close to the partition. “In your mouth?”

“I want it any way you'd like to have me, sir— uh, Father.”

Jonas smiled at that. “You can call me sir if you like, I don't mind." His cock didn't mind either, twitching in his pants at the stranger's words. He was hard enough by now that the urge to do something about it was beginning to take over, and he popped his top button open to relieve some of the pressure on his rapidly growing erection.

“Y-yes sir.”

“Is this how you envisioned your confession going this morning, my child?” Jonas kept his voice even, low enough not to carry beyond the thin wooden walls. “Propositioning a reverend in church?”

“I thought— I didn't think I'd get this far, honestly.”

“And now that you have?”

“Now that I have... I've got another confession to make, Father.” Sonny took a deep breath. “I’ve never been had by a man before.”

There was a long silence from the other side, and burning panic started to rise in Sonny's chest. _Why did he say that? What would the reverend want with some inexperienced idiot who barely knows what he's doing?_ He balled his hands into two tight fists and mouthed a silent curse at the floor.

“I— I'm not a virgin, I just...”

“You've just never had a cock in you before?” Jonas already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.

“No, sir.”

“Not even in your mouth?”

“Not even in my, uh... no, sir.” Sonny was starting to squirm in embarrassment and discomfort at the reverend’s excruciatingly direct line of questioning; the crude, explicit words delivered so easily, so casually, and he swallowed hard. He pressed his thighs together, desperately trying to ignore the fact that he was somehow only getting harder.

“Have you ever seen one before?” Jonas breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he allowed himself a good hard squeeze through his jeans. _Any more than that and it would be too difficult to stop._

“I, um...,” Sonny cleared his throat. _Not other than his own, not outside of the locker room, not in real life, not hard, not up close._ “Not— no, Father.”

“Would you like to?”

“ _Please_.” Sonny's mouth was running miles ahead of his brain, and he cursed himself for sounding too eager. _This was so much farther than he had ever thought that he'd have the courage to go, but he wasn't about to stop now._ “Yes, Father, I would.”

Jonas shifted on the other side of the partition, and Sonny quickly dropped to his knees to watch as a pair of sturdy hips came into view through the small window. The reverend’s jeans were tight and he seemed to struggle with his fly for a moment, finally tugging it open and letting his erection spring to attention. Even in the dim light Sonny could see how hard and wet and _ready_ he was, and he drew in a deep, shaky breath.

“Do you like it, my son?”

Sonny's mouth was watering again. “It's... _big_ ,” he breathed, his own erection straining in his pants,  pressed tight against his zipper as he placed both palms flat against the thin partition and leaned in for a better look. Jonas’s cock was about the size of his own, but the reverend was _thick_ , and Sonny found himself wondering if he'd be able to close a hand around it.

“What can I say,” Jonas slid a finger under his shaft and tilted it up to his stomach, exposing the underside of his cock and the perfect ridge running down the entirety of his length. “I'm a grower.”

There was something about the sharp edge of humor in his voice that drove Sonny crazy; something that made him want Jonas even more than he had at first sight, and he let out a low groan. The reverend's cock twitched in response, and Sonny realized too late exactly what it must've sounded like.

“Are you touching yourself?”

Heat rose on Sonny's cheeks. “No, Father, I just—”

“Why not?”

“ _Oh_ — I, uh... _shit._ ” Sonny fumbled with his fly, hands shaking as he frantically tried to get his fingers to cooperate.

The muffled grate of the man's zipper had the hairs on Jonas's arms standing on end in anticipation; goosebumps rushing across his skin despite the near-eighty degree weather. The angle he was at spared him a view of nothing more than the man's shoulders and a bit of chest, but the quiet gasp that followed told him everything he needed to know. “There you go, my son, isn't that better?”

“ _Yes._ ” His palm against his bare cock was nearly overwhelming, and Sonny let his head fall forward against the wood with a whimper. “Thank you, Father.”

“Don't thank me,” Jonas wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and tapped his slick head against the window. “This was all you.”

Sonny instinctively parted his lips and reached for the reverend, then hissed in frustration as his hands met solid wood. The lattice over the window was infuriatingly tight— the holes big enough for a child's fingers at best— but he still tried in vain to push his fingertips through to the other side.

“Easy there, tiger,” Jonas chuckled. He let himself go, shifted his weight onto the other foot. “I don't want you to hurt yourself before I get my hands on you.”

 _The reverend really did intend to have him, then_. Sonny took a deep breath, hypnotized by the way Jonas's cock was swinging inches from his face. “Can I see your... the rest?”

“ _Hmm_ ,” Jonas feigned thought, even as he hooked a thumb in his fly. “Tell you what, why don't we make a deal?”

“Anything you want, Father.” Sonny realized how desperate he sounded, but he didn't care anymore. He was inches from a big, beautiful, dripping cock attached to the most attractive man he'd ever seen, and all he could think about was what Jonas would _taste_ like. “ _Please_.”

“Anything I want,” Jonas repeated, giving himself a few slow, easy strokes as he thought.

“ _Anything_ , sir.”

“That's dangerous, my son.”

A heavy shudder ran down Sonny's spine as he wondered just how far Jonas would take this, how far he _could_ take it in their current situation, and he suppressed a moan. “As dangerous as getting off to the sound of your voice in the middle of a crowded church?”

“You make a good point.”

Jonas liked that; Sonny could hear the smile in his voice, and his cock throbbed hard in response.

“Lick your finger for me.”

“Lick my—”

“ _Lick your finger for me_.”

Sonny bit his lip at Jonas's suddenly authoritative tone. “Yes, sir.” He obediently pushed two fingers into his mouth.

“Nice and wet,” Jonas instructed, “and then I want you to touch your asshole.”

The reverend’s voice was still measured and even, but the way he twitched gave him away. _He was enjoying this just as much as Sonny, if not more._ Sonny buried a hand between his legs, drawing in a sharp breath as his slick fingertip meet tight, sensitive muscle, and he barely managed to swallow Jonas's name as it sprang to his lips. “Wh-what now, sir?”

“Now you tell me how it feels.”

“It feels...” Sonny prodded gently at his entrance, the sensation new but not entirely unpleasant. Not at _all_ unpleasant, actually. It was almost as if there was a central nerve running from his ass to the very root of his cock, sending dull shocks of pleasure through his groin as he touched himself. He pressed against his hole again, harder this time, shuddering as he reflexively clenched. “It feels... tight, Father.”

 _That wasn't fair._ Jonas bit down on his fist to stifle a groan. “Slide your finger inside for me.”

The reverend's voice had taken on a gravelly quality that Sonny was helpless to resist. “ _Ah_...” he forced his fingertip past his rim, gritting his teeth against the dull pain. _Jonas was at least three, maybe four fingers thick; there was just no way he'd be able to take all that._ “I don't know if your, uh— if you'll fit.”

Jonas swore under his breath. _This man was going to be the death of him_. “Don't worry about that, my son, I can work miracles with my tongue.”

“With y— _oh_ ,” Sonny flushed bright red as he realized what Jonas meant. _Was that something that men did with each other?_ He tightened his fist around his cock and started to stroke in earnest, the sinful mental image of Jonas's head buried between his legs only serving to spur him on.

Jonas kept talking, even as he shoved a hand down the front of his pants. “You've never been eaten out before, have you.” He gave his balls a good squeeze before pulling them out over his waistband, putting the whole package on display for this eager young man.

“No, Father.” It wasn't a question, and Sonny didn't even consider lying. He was too preoccupied with ogling Jonas's crotch, his face pressed to the tiny window as the reverend finally revealed Sonny's reward. _So_ everything _about the man was big._ He moaned low in his throat, hand stuttering on his cock as he imagined the weight of Jonas's testicles on his tongue, the reverend's scent filling his nostrils as he licked and sucked those big, heavy balls.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Jonas murmured, that familiar tight heat starting to build in his stomach. The muffled noises from the other side weren't helping; the stranger sounded to be getting close as well, his breaths starting to come in short, harsh pants. “I'm going to ruin you, you know that?”

“ _Yes, Father_.” Sonny closed his eyes and pushed his finger deeper with a soft hiss, throbbing in his palm as he stretched himself the tiniest bit further to accommodate the second knuckle. _Jonas's cock would break him; he was sure of it, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than to be split open and sodomized by the reverend._ The very thought brought him to the edge, and he whimpered before he could stop himself.

Jonas tightened at the sound, and he let his head fall back with a silent curse. He was dying to touch himself, his fingers curling at his sides— a few rough jerks and he'd be through, shaking as he came not even six inches from the man's face. He gripped his waistband instead, determined to hold out. “How are you doing in there, my son?”

“Father, may I— can I finish?”

The man's careful avoidance of crude language was nothing if not comical, especially given the situation at hand, and Jonas had to smile. “You're not going to leave a mess for someone else to clean up, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I don't see why not.”

The words were barely out of the reverend's mouth before Sonny was doubling over with a gasp, his head hitting the partition as his thighs tightened. He grabbed a fistful of his boxers, nearly tearing the cotton as he desperately held the fabric over the head of his cock. His shaft pulsed what must have been a dozen times and Sonny struggled for breath as he came harder than he had in years, his come soaking into the thin material, balls emptying themselves until there was nothing left. A final dry aftershock ripped through him and he nearly sobbed aloud, finally able to pull in several deep breaths.

“ _Good boy_.”

Sonny's heart leaped at the reverend's whispered praise, and he dragged a hand across the window. “Are you gonna...”

“Not yet.” Jonas had never been more thankful that he'd gotten his father's stubborn side. He let go of his waistband, fingers aching from the deathgrip he'd had on his jeans, and nudged at his balls with a single knuckle, feeling himself tighten again as he did. “I'm saving all this for you.”

“ _Oh_.”

“You know where I'm staying?”

“It’s a small town, sir; everybody knows where you're staying.”

“Perfect.”

Sonny watched longingly as the reverend tucked himself away, his thick, hard cock pressed into the line of one toned hip just below his waistband, and fastened his jeans back up.

“Room 403. Don't change.” Jonas patted his hip, gritting his teeth against the heavy wave of pleasure that the stimulation sent through him; against the generous rush of precome that he felt leak into his jeans. _He wouldn't’ve been able to last much longer._ “I'll keep this safe for you.”

**Author's Note:**

>   
> [ _What the hell is a peeper?_](https://www.nwf.org/Educational-Resources/Wildlife-Guide/Amphibians/Spring-Peeper)  
>   
> 
> Please feel free to [message](https://fuckerao3.tumblr.com/ask) or [DM](https://www.tumblr.com/message/fuckerao3) me with questions, suggestions, or requests (no promises), or if you'd like to beta!


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